


Standing Still

by I_DDare_You



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angels, Drabble, Ficlet, Freeform, Guardian Angel, Kid Dean, M/M, Sam and Dean are still raised by John, Sort of Kid Cas, idk man, more pre slash than slash, prompt, sort of, statue!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_DDare_You/pseuds/I_DDare_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn’t know how it happened. One day there is nothing and the next day there is the boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Standing Still

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Standing Still'.

Castiel doesn’t know how it happened. One day there is nothing – no sound, no light; there isn’t even darkness, just an absence that he was never aware of. And then the next day there is the warmth of the sun, birds chirping in the trees that sway with the breeze as cars honk and people chatter in the distance. There is everything to see and hear and smell. Touch is different though. He can only touch what touches him first; he cannot reach out and brush the flowers that are laid at his stone feet, he can’t even touch his own face to know what he feels like against his own stone fingertips. He is only touched by the leaves that brush his smooth marble on their way past and the birds that perch on his shoulders, wings and the steeple of his praying hands. He wishes he could touch more. He wishes to know what it feels like to step off the marble pedestal and sink his bare feet into the long grass; sometimes he wishes for more than this immobile, silent existence.

But then there is the boy.

Castiel knows the boy is soon to be thirteen; he knows this because the boy told him. He also knows that his name is Dean because he also told him that. Dean talks to him a lot. Ever since that first morning where nothing became light and air and warmth, Dean has walked up to him, weaving between the crumbling gravestones to sit on the grass in front of Castiel and simply speak to him.

He talks of his little brother, Sammy, of how well he does in school, how he kicked a goal in the soccer game on the weekend and how he thinks that Sammy might be almost as fast as him now. He speaks of his Dad, how he wishes he wouldn’t fight with Sammy so much and how he wishes his Dad could see how hard he’s trying to obey him and do what’s right. Castiel thinks that these are things Dean doesn’t talk to many others about. He thinks talking about these things makes Dean feel vulnerable and small so he tells them only to the still, marble boy angel that guards his mother’s grave. His mother. That’s another thing that Dean talks to Castiel about, and Castiel thinks that he’s the only one to hear about Dean’s mother in a long time, judging by the way that the boy can’t even look up at him when he talks about her. His voice gets quieter when he tells Castiel of how he remembers how his mother used to always know what to do when he got sick and how Sammy got sick the other week and he really missed her and wished she was there to take care of his little brother properly, instead of only having the gruff words that their father had to give. He remembers how his mother used to be able to calm their father down when he got angry and he wishes she was there to do that when he was angry about Sammy, and he wishes she was there for Sammy like she was there for him when he was young.

He seems so sad when he talks about his mother. Castiel wants nothing more than to crouch down in front of him and tell him that he hears him and that he cares, but he is always stuck, always still, doomed only to listen on in cold silence.

Until one day, when Dean has finished talking about his Dad going away for work that week and he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. Dean gets to his feet so he is only a head shorter than Castiel on his marble pedestal, and says that this day nine years ago his mother died in that house fire. He spends an extra moment staring down at the name engraved on the marble before giving a crooked smile and fondly patting Castiel on his wing. Only, when he does, his hand doesn’t touch cold marble but soft, sleek feathers. Castiel blinks. He feels Dean’s warm hand, he blinked eyes that were seconds ago only blank marble. He slowly looks down at the boy who is frozen in shock, staring up at what now feels like a very human face. Dean looks scared and confused and maybe a little angry, and Castiel doesn’t know what to say to him now that he can say all he’s ever wanted to. So he says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hello, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of writing the ten or so Destiel fics I need to finish, I post this. Whoops. Also, pretty strange AU to lose my AU virginity to. Let me know what you think? Comments are my everything.


End file.
